As the day of departure arrived, it was just as eventful as the days preceding this trip to Maine. Getting the boat prepared, and the man prepared, was as every bit as challenging of a task that I thought it would be. And then some.
Jason was due to depart this same morning in his Eastward Ho "Low Compression" which interestingly enough, he had found years ago in a field with a tree growing out of it after having sunk. Amazingly to his credit, he had managed to rebuild it into a go-anywhere boat. He had made this trip last year, and like me was scrambling to finish all of his projects before doing it again.
Now, Jason usually wakes up around 4:30-5:00am, so when 9:00 came and went on the morning of the trip, I knew something was up. Sure enough he was asked the night before to deliver a big Freedom yacht from Cove Haven in Barrington to the Warren River. This took a few hours and added to the pit surely growing in both of our stomachs. You see it was already July 29th, and since we had intended on leaving around the 10th; we were anxious to get going. Boat projects and delays had set us back and I think we both got a little tired of trying to answer the question "so when you leaving?"
Finally, about 11:30am the diesels grumbled to life, and we headed out of the Warren River, a place that had become home.
Conditions were less than ideal, with a stiff south wind in the very direction we were headed but we proceeded through Upper Narragansett Bay, around Bristol and Hog Island, passing under the Mt Hope bridge which runs between Bristol and Portsmouth. From there it was a sharp right into Sakonnet Passage. After motoring through the narrows and past Tiverton, the passage opened up enough to hoist the sails. Since Sakonnet Passage is open to Buzzards Bay you can get pretty sizable swells in it, which was the case today. After tacking back and forth through the passage for a while I eventually got close enough to the anchorage at Third Beach. This was a good first run, and placed us on the edge of Buzzards Bay for a quick hop to Cuttyhunk Island in the morning.
I dropped anchor, tidied up a little bit, made dinner and enjoyed it sitting in the cockpit looking out over all the early evening beach goers. I could hear the waves crashing over the dunes as I drifted off to sleep.
Zennure, sitting at anchor in the Annisquam River.